When Money Talks
by AliVal13
Summary: Everyone listens. Harry is a simple guy with an every day life. He has a job with a crappy boss, he lives in a house with five room mates, and wants to go to school soon. Then his boss shows how big a jerk he really is...
1. Introductions

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter

WARNING - Homosexuality

RANT - OMG. O.o My very first Harry Potter fiction. I know most people typically start off new fanfictions within the world of the game or story they're basing it from, but I find experimenting with things I'm more used to (like alternate universes) is easier for me. Hell, it's easier for anyone, especially with Harry Potter. So, don't expect anything to be perfect, okay? Then again, my stuff never is.

Enjoy?

* * *

Harry Potter, or so said the plastic name plate attached on the wall outside his cubicle, sat at his desk with a frown and a headache. He had far too many papers still to do and very little patience for any of it left. He leaned back in his chair, causing it to squeak, and stared at the out-dated screen of his computer.

_I can already hear Uncle Vernon screaming..._ Harry thought, rolling his lightening-green eyes at the inevitable future. _If he wants me to finish on time, he needs to stop giving me the same amount of work a whole department would see every week._

_Speaking of Uncle Vernon..._

Harry sat up straight as he heard the familiar stomping of a very large man come down the hall, his fingers immediately tapping at the keys to continue his job. He was forced to pause as someone stood before the door, checking one of his many undone papers to avoid eye contact.

"Listen up, boy." The man scowled heavily. He was definitely a very, VERY heavy set man with a large mustache. Six chins, an odd odor, and the ugliest, brownest business suit that seemed one size too small just barely hanging on to his large frame. He spoke to Harry as if he were the little kid all the boys were obligasted to bully, or face the horrors of lost popularity. "An important man is coming to the office today to having a meeting with me. I don't want to see, smell, hear, or even remember you exist while he's visiting, _you got that, boy?_"

"Yes, sir, Uncle Vernon."

"What did you call me!"

"... Yes, sir, _Mr_._ Dursley_."

"Better. And I mean it! Don't you dare even poke your head over your cubicle!"

Harry sighed as his uncle/boss walked away, immediately slumping backwards into his creaky chair with a deep frown once he knew it was safe again. His hands moved to push his glasses to the top of his head, then cover his face gently. He needed just a second or two of darkness for thinking, for reminding himself why he didn't just quit- despite knowing he was only there to be his uncle's emotional punching bag.

_Remember... Just six more months. Six months... and you'll be going to school. You'll have a dorm, you'll have your classes... You won't even have to work. Just six more months..._

Harry gently pulled his glasses from his jet-black hair, careful to avoid getting his wild locks tangled inside the round frame. He cleaned them once on his soft dress shirt, then put them back. It was too early in the day for a break, so he simply went back to work.

The office was a tidy and organized one, all the cubicles in perfect lines, and each only three feet tall. Every one had a name plate to indicate who was where and there were even maps on the walls, making it virtually impossible for anyone to get lost- even for new workers or visitors. Beyond the cubicles was Vernon Dursley's large office, and on the right of the entire floor a large window stretched from one end to the other- looking out toward the parking lot.

It was an hour later when Harry finally stood, ignoring his uncle's warnings in order to stand up and walk out of his cubicle. His legs were cramping, his throat was dry, and it was half an hour past his lunch break- which he already knew he would most likely not be getting today. So, without caring for whatever consequences may follow, the raven haired male decided he wanted some water and walked down the clear aisle of little offices toward the cooler near the door. An odd sound, like a woman squealing, caught his attention as he walked- able to see over the many work cubes and notice quite a large amount of people were standing at the huge window. It didn't seem too strange, though.

_Uncle Vernon did say some big shot was coming to the company today. Must have driven in some fancy smancy car..._

It only peeked a slight interest in Harry, one so small he decided to ignore it in favor of a quick drink.

_Better get some water before Uncle Vernon catches me. He'll probably yell at me no matter what, but the less excuses he has, the less I have to deal with._

It should have been a quick visit to the coolor and back, but something told Harry to stand just a few seconds longer right where he was. The door to the staircase, as well as the elevator entrance, were both right next to the water. Because of that, people were gathering around the cooler and away from the window- perhaps using a need to quench their own thirst as an excuse to maybe meet the rich man about to come in.

Harry drank quickly from the little paper triangle, practically being pushed away from the dispenser by his co-workers.

_Wow... these people must have some really boring lives to be this desperate to see a guy who drives a nice car. He's probably just as fat as Uncle Vernon, and maybe even uglier. Snobby, fat, ugly, hairy, stinky, and probably an idiot._

Before Harry had much of a chance, though a chance he did have, to return to his cubicle, the elevator doors opened. Of course, everyone pretended to simply be returning to their own work places or taking small breaks so as not to seem excited to have a visitor around. Harry, though not interested in the big wig, had purposely stayed all the same... Mostly because he had a little voice in his head that demanded he rebel against his authority figures.

Inside was Uncle Vernon, stuttering and sweating nervously as he stepped out of the elevator behind a small company of three. He had his hands clasped, his mustache twitched beyond his control, and he was trying to smile, but it was crooked. He looked around the room as the four adults came to pause, due to the crowd, and Uncle Vernon immediately began to disperse his workers- apologizing profusely to the men beside him.

As soon as Vernon Dursley saw that Harry Potter did exactly the opposite of his warnings, his face seemed to change a few shades of red- obviously holding in a lot of anger.

Harry might have laughed at the fury twisting on his uncle's face, but his attention was suddenly caught by the man Vernon had been speaking to. It was a tall blond, with a thin frame and a hansom suit that matched his noble looks. Very much a rich boy and a snob, his nearly white hair was pushed back with but a few strands still hanging in front. He had sharp blue eyes that surveyed Harry, looking bored.

Harry turned away from him without much thought, walking down the aisle immediately after that before his uncle could bark at him. Though, now he understood why the workers so badly wanted to see the guy... They probably saw him in the parking lot.

_Young and rich is a rare combination, but I doubt his high standards are met by anyone in this dump._

"Who was that...?" The blond asked Mr. Dursley softly, but sternly. Harry was too far to hear his inquiry. The blond watched as Potter hid himself back inside his cubicle, which wasn't far from where they stood.

"No one." Vernon said, just a little too quickly. "No one at all, just one of our many skilled graphic designers. Now, Mr. Malfoy, my office is this- "

Uncle Vernon had tried to lead Mr. Malfoy, the lovely blond, down the farthest aisle from Harry's work station. He even began to walk that way, despite the aisle where Harry worked being the closest and most convenient path down to the end of the floor where his office was... But the Malfoy male wouldn't hear of it. Vernon's office was easy to see and identify, even from a distance of fifteen cubicles away, so the blond simply lead himself. The two men that came with him following closely behind, eyeing the workers suspiciously.

The blond man made his way five cubicles down the aisles before he stopped, turning on his heel sharply to face Harry's little office. First, he turned his blue eyes to the plastic name plate, giving it a smirk. After, without a single word, he turned and kept walking. The sound of his leather shoes muffled by the old blue carpetting that covered every inch of the floor.

Harry wasn't paying attention, staring intently at his computer. He showed no signs of being at all aware that he had a temporary visitor.

_Ugh..._ Harry sighed. _This will take forever... I may have to stay late again._

* * *

The ending feels rushed per usual. BAH.

I did warn people this might suck. xD

Read, review... And dudes, srsly. What's the point of flaming my shit? At all? Don't you think I technically set myself on fire every time I write something? Back off.


	2. A Short Meeting

WARNING - Homosexuality, duh.

RANT - I have to say, I was super surprised by the turn out I got for this fiction. The first chapter hadn't even lived for 12 hours and I received about 24 messages about it, from people reviewing, faving, alerting... I had no idea it was going to go so well or that people would like this so much. It makes me feel special! -insert lots of hearts-

To all the readers I have so far, thank you so much for your nice reviews and for making me feel like I'm half-way decent at writing. Because of that, I decided I really wanted to update, so here it is... I have to say, though, I may not update as fast as I did this time ever again. Just letting you peeps know so you don't get worried or disappointed.

As a last note before you begin... mmm, popcorn. My salty, buttery love. x3

* * *

The office door was closed and Vernon Dursley looked as if he might be passing a stone, with the way he was turning red and pink and perspiring so profusely in his lounge chair. Vernon was a heavy set man with trunk-like feet, a large mustache, and hands so large- one might think they were swollen. He twisted his digits around each other, his upper lip twitching nervously.

"- so appreciated! I can't tell you how much you and your father have- "

"Save it!"

Vernon twitched as he was snapped at, immediately shutting his mouth as he shook like a leaf. He offered a smile, his eyes- nearly hidden by fat- staring at a blond male with the same alertness one might find in a scared mouse.

"Draco- May I call you Draco? "

"No, you may not. And I believe I told you to shut your fat trap!"

Vernon squeaked as Draco snapped again, his mouth shutting tight this time.

"Now..." Draco Malfoy was a tall blond with the body of an athlete that was mostly hidden under a very expensive suit. His clothes were all black in color, customized from the finest silks to fit his form perfectly. He stared across the desk with ice-blue eyes from a cushion chair before Vernon Dursley's desk, frowning in deep displeasure at the fat man. Besides the chair only looking expensive (and actually being a cheap, hard seated piece of crap), Vernon hadn't taken a single break from talking since they stepped in and sat down.

The least to say, the young Malfoy scion was beyond the usual patience.

"I want to get straight to business. No bending over to kiss my ass, no first name basis bullshit friendship tactic, no anything but what I _actually_ need to hear. You got that?"

Vernon nodded vehemently. "Y-Yes, you're right." He took a deep breath, seeming to finally calm down... if only a little bit. "Well,you already know that several of the company's investors have decided that they would prefer to move in a new direction, leading to the unfortunate circumstance of their backing being pulled out..."

Draco seemed to nod, looking incredibly bored... Even a little smug. He smirked in a plotting way, waving his hand to signal Vernon to go on.

"A-At any rate... We would like to keep your family around, since without you there will have to be some very drastric changes around here. Most of our workers have families they need to support, but more then half of the staff would have to be fired- "

"I already know that." The blond practically growled, running his hand through his hair to push it all back. Not that it needed adjustment at all, he was just growing frustrated. "Get to the point, which is what you're willing to do for _me_ so that I continue to support _you_."

"You make it sound like... it'd be you personally."

Draco chuckled, an odd spark passing his blue eyes.

"Well, of course. My father has already given up on this dump. Anyone with a few brain cells would. Using computers that have been outdated for nearly twenty years? Printers that don't work half the time; small departments; not to mention that your company is based on a product that is hardly needed anymore..." He sighed, leaning back in the uncomfortable seat and crossing his long legs. "In other words, you're desperate. My father sent me hear to tell you to take a hike, but I have an influence over my father and my own money I could contribute that amounts to nearly the same as his. In other words, I'm your last hope... Now, what will you give me to make me want to support you?"

"I... Wh-What do you want?" Vernon cleared his throat, feeling furious on the inside. To be forced to grovel to a man not even old enough to rent a car, it was humiliating. Originally, he thought he was just going to give the usual guilt trip and appreciation speech, but to know he was a string's width away from total doom... It grated on his nerves. And it showed quite well.

"First of all, you're causing bad business. I know you own a three story house and a few foreign cars, yet I have yet to see a single computer outside your office that wasn't on recall." Draco frowned, one hand curling toward his face. He was examining his nails. "New printers, a fresh enviroment- the carpet outside almost made me puke... You will stop purchasing anything beyond groceries and what is needed in the office. You'll also have to fire a few people anyway, you were stupid enough to promise them retirement. That alone could cause bankruptcy... Unless you're some soft-heart, then retire them and don't hire anyone new. That will cut your bills down by at least half."

Vernon nodded, still smiling despite his aching need to punch something.

"Oh, and one more thing..."

"Yes?" Vernon blinked. _Want me to lasso the moon? No, wait... You want me to dance in a tutu, right? No no no... Worse. You want me to give to charity..._

"... The employee near your office, the graphic designer... Harry Potter."

"What... What about him?" Just hearing the name made Vernon grind his teeth. It was a mystery as to why he hired, much less kept, Harry at all... or for so long. Especially when he apparently hated the male so much.

"I'll be needing his personal information." Draco said simply.

"May I ask why?"

"No, you can't. Besides, you looked ready to rip his face off before, so what does it matter if you practically hand him over to a stranger?"

"Well..." Vernon began, sitting up straight. He smiled, almost slyly... or would have if his mustache wasn't in the way. "He's my dear nephew. I have to look out for him."

"Your nephew?" That seemed to perk Draco's interest, making Vernon smile wider.

"Yes, my nephew. My wife's side. Raised him from a baby after his parents died in a car crash."

"... Even better. As you are family, you can give me his personal information without any legal issues." Draco smirked again, looking suddenly content. "Have it faxed to my house." The blond stood after that, staring down at Mr. Dursley in a manner most befitting a Malfoy... cold and calculating. "You have one month to complete the changes, and until the end of tomorrow to send me Potter's info."

Without so much as a word of good bye beyond that, he moved around the chair and back through the office doors- the two other men, both very large, followed closely behind. They were wearing suits as well, though not as nice as Draco's. On their hips were special batons. Both grunted as a farewell as they left with the blond, still travelling close behind him.

Vernon Dursley growled as the glass door closed, putting a pencil in his mouth and biting it in half. It was the closest he could get to violence without a lawsuit.

The blond walked down the same aisle he came through, walking slowly past each plastic cube. It was like the whole floor was made of children's toy boxes. Draco slowed down even further as they came to cross past Harry's cubicle again, the boy with the jet black hair still too busy to notice... this time because he was caught in conversation about some programming error with another co-worker.

The man with the jet-black hair was leaning over the wall of his office into the one right next to him, partially bent over to stare at another work over the wall who was sitting down at his desk. As Harry spoke, explaining to the other how the layering option worked, Draco was able to tilt his head and catch a gander at his backside. He stared only a moment, then went on with his business of leaving.

Harry turned back in time to catch Draco entering the elevator, then sat back down at his creaky chair.

* * *

There ya have it. I'm almost afraid the quality might be going down. That sometimes happens if I make myself update too soon... Then again, I may just be seeing things. x.x I'm a naturally negative person.

Read, review, no flames.


	3. The First of Many Confusing Nights

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Harry Potter.

WARNING - The usual.

RANT - Yeah, I know. Took forever, right? Bah. I am still updating a lot faster then I used to. Once, and I hope myself this will not happen again, I didn't update ANYTHING for two years. So, I'm still doing awesome. xD

This is probably terrible.

* * *

Harry Potter sat up in bed, hearing a most unfamiliar noise. It was the sound of his cell phone going off, the ring tone odd to Harry's ears. He blinked, wide-eyed into the darkness as he jerked to look at his phone, then sigh with relief. He quickly answered it, not wanting to wake certain occupants of the house.

_I forgot I had this thing... I almost thought it was a waste of time. No one to call me, but Uncle Vernon, after all._ "Hello?" The man with jet-black hair asked, confused and wary. He was a little ticked to, but that was hidden from his voice. After all, it was nearly midnight- or so said the glowing alarm clock near by. _Some people have to get up at four in the morning... Some people like me!_

"Don't bother with work today." Said a sultry voice on the other end. "Get up, get dressed, and go outside. A car will be waiting for you." And they hung up.

"What?" Harry asked, but it was too late. _Get dressed? Go outside? A car...? And this guy expects me to trust this? Why the hell would I ever do something as stu-_

"_Boy_!"

"Yes..?" Harry murmured, trying to sound as tired as possible. He carefully shut his phone and hid it under his pillow, just in case the voice- whom he knew to be Uncle Vernon- decided to force his way in. "It's late..."

"Shut up! I know it's late!" Barked his boss and relative, slamming a large fist against the door as he did so. It made Harry jump in his seat. "You're going on a trip tonight. Put on your best outfit- and I mean _your best_. And don't embarass me!" And then the fat man was heard practically stomping back down the stairs.

"What...? Ugh... whatever." Harry grunted with displeasure as he crawled out of bed carefully, yawning so wide his jaw nearly dislocated.

"And hurry it up!" He heard echoing from the first floor. Harry groaned, rubbing his face down before grabbing his glasses and putting those on.

"What is going on here?" Harry asked softly as he finally made it downstairs, in the only good looking anything he had- his usual work clothes. He sported a plain red tie, dress shirt, and basic black trousers- his shirt and pants a size too big on his lanky body. He kept his tone soft, despite being mad, in order to make whatever was going on move faster without too much incident.

As he approached the formal dining room, where his Uncle Vernon sat, he was suddenly grabbed by a woman. She was tall, thin, and her neck was almost freakishly long. With her bony fingers, she took Harry by his hair and attempted to tame his naturally wild locks with a thick container of gel.

"Au-Aunt Petunia!" Harry yelped every time she pulled, his head being forced every which way much too roughly. He felt like she might rip all his hair out, which he knew she might actually prefer over the usual mess. "Ow!"

"Stop whining." Aunt Petunia snapped, forcing the man's hair down flat. There was nothing to be done about a few stubborn strands near Harry's face, but the rest of it at least was "presentable". Greasy looking, but presentable. "There! Much better. Oh, you idiot, don't you know how to wear a tie properly?" And she then proceeded to nearly choke the life out of Harry fixing his tie.

"Make sure to splash some of that cologne on him, can't have him smelling weird tonight." Vernon grunted, taking another sip of something in a glass. It looked like whiskey.

"Yes, dear!" Petunia replied sweetly to her husband, offering him as comforting a smile as her thin face's skin would allow. With how much botox was in her head, Harry was surprised she could still move to make expressions at all.

"Hold still."

"Gack! Keh...hugck hoh...!" Harry coughed violently as he was suddenly pelted with some of the most suffocating cologne he had ever had the misfortunate to accidentally breathe in. _It smells like window mold!_

"There. Fifty percent better! Now if we could only give you a better personality, you'd be up to seventy-five." Petunia turned to her husband, moving to let him look at their "new" nephew. "As for the other twenty-five percent..." She just clucked her tongue at that in a most sympathetic way, getting a chuckle from Vernon.

"He'll do." Vernon's mustach twitched as he set the glass down, cheeks a little pink indicating a buzz. He pointed a sausage-like finger at Harry, glaring at him through the skin bundling at his eyes. "You are not to speak unless spoken to. Do not say anything to embarass me or the company. DO NOT be a smart arse, and leave your fucking opinions to yourself! No one cares for that load of- "

The door bell rang, causing Aunt Petunia to suddenly jump. She fixed her hair one last time as quickly as possible, then dashed towards the door- her red dress billowing at the ends behind her. Uncle Vernon set the whiskey and glass away in a glass shelving behind him as casually as possible, though his hands shook so hard, he almost dropped both. Vernon stood, adjusted his own tie, then planted on his face a very fake smile.

"Remember boy... anything happens..." Vernon growled below his voice through that grin, letting the threat hang in the air.

Harry sighed, still confused. _It's so late at night... What does this have to do with me or the company? Normally Uncle Vernon would prefer I not exist when anyone involving the company arrives... Hell, normally he'd bite whoever even dared to disturb him this late._

"Hullo!" Came Petunia's voice, which sounded a little more loud and grating then normal. It was always that way when someone important came by, as apparently high-pitched meant professional host to her. The door closed behind whoever she let inside, Harry unable to hear whoever it was speak, if he even did. "I have a little midnight snack ready in the oven. I hope you like chocolate!"

_Chocolate?_ That perked Harry's interest, one brow quirking. He didn't realize he had accidentally let go of a small smile until Vernon began to growl again.

"Get that look off your damn face. You're not having any."

Harry sighed, though discretely.

If the situation hadn't been confusing enough, this was going over the top. In from the living room, escorted by Aunt Petunia, was the very blond man he had seen enter the office just yesterday. He looked as sauve as he did when Harry first saw him, in yet another fine suit. The weather was a little warm, so the blond's jacket was off, which made it easier to see a pair of diamond cufflinks on both sleeves.

_Why does Uncle Vernon want me for him?_ Harry tilted his head, then accidentally blushed. The blond threw him a smirk, which is when Harry realized he had been looking the richer set up and down a little too slowly. That made the Potter son frown, having not meant to give the kind of impression he was certain the blond took from that. _What a smug spoiled snob... I don't like him already._

"Now, Potter," Vernon snapped Harry out of his thoughts, forcing him to pay attention to his uncle. "You are going to spend the day from now until some time tomorrow with Mr. Malfoy."

"Mr. Malfoy...?" Harry asked quietly, looking back at the blond, then back at Vernon. "Why?"

Vernon twitched, holding back his twitching hand. It was the familiar look of anger that usually led to Harry being smacked. If the guest had not been there, he may have very well been. "Don't question it. It's... It's part of your job now."

"How is spending time with someone part of my job?"

"Don't- " Vernon began, nearly snapping. He forced himself to calm down, looking a little nervous as Mr. Malfoy turned a cold eye on him. "You'll understand. Just go."

Harry was almost having a little _too m__uch_ fun with this. Vernon looked almost purple with surpressed anger and minor drunkeness, but Harry knew the consequences were not worth it. He just nodded and Vernon seemed to breathe a sigh.

"Well, it'll take another five minutes for the- " Began Aunt Petunia, who had been biting her nails from anxiety, only to be interrupted by the blond.

"No need. We'll be leaving."

"Oh... O-Of course."

Harry was led out with the blond to the door silently, Mr. Malfoy hardly giving a word of good bye.

* * *

A little iffy, perhaps a little rushed... But it came out better then I thought it would. Kinda.

Read, review, no flames.


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